Chloe Sparrow

by Lesley Crewe

  “Yes.”

  “You can get all the protein you need on a vegetarian diet, but not if you don’t work at it, and I know you. You don’t sit still long enough to make yourself a meal. That has to stop. An occasional hamburger isn’t going to kill you. I wish you’d eat some fish and chicken too.”

  “Fish and chickens have faces.”

  “I also want you to choke down two protein drinks a day. You can get them in a chocolate flavour.”

  My shoulders slump. “I hate my job.”

  “So do three-quarters of the people on earth, and last I heard you weren’t smashing rocks in a quarry. Look, if I liked quick fixes I’d send you off with a bottle of pills, but that’s not going to help you in the long run. You have to eat better. You should get some exercise—swim, and work with weights to build up your strength. Try yoga and meditating, anything that relaxes you and gets you out of your own brain. I have a feeling it’s a scary place to be.”

  He waits for an answer.

  “All right.”

  “Boundless enthusiasm! That’s what I want to see. Now get out of my office.” He squeezes my upper arm before I go. I can feel the warmth on the bus all the way to the hospital, where I sit in a room with sixty people who look like Aunt Ollie and Gramps. Maybe it’s my fate to end up like Aunt Ollie. Gramps will die and I’ll look after her, but who will look after me?

  I’m in the bathroom at the hospital trying to catch my urine “mid-stream.” Is this really necessary? It’s pretty horrible to squat over the toilet with a tiny bottle between my legs, but it’s nothing compared to having a guy open the door and flash me to the entire waiting room. He shuts it in a hurry, but the damage is done. With my pants around my ankles, I shuffle over to lock the door I thought I locked before. Now I have to stay in here until everyone has gone home.

  This strategy lasts two minutes. I’m never going to see these people again. I exit with my head held high and don’t look back. The nurse puts the pee bottle in a little rack. Then she rolls up my sleeve and drains away the last of my energy. I’m being bled as if I lived in Tudor England. In the X-ray department a crabby nurse shoves me into a cubicle and tells me to take off my blouse and bra and put on an enormous green Johnny shirt. The X-ray technician laughs when I ask her if my heart is broken.

  On my way home in a taxi, I lean forward to speak to the driver. “Can you stop at McDonald’s first?”

  He looks at me quizzically in the rear-view mirror. Maybe he doesn’t speak English. I mime stuffing my face.

  “McDonald’s? Big Mac?”

  He gets it.

  I’ve never been at a drive-thru, so I’m not sure what the protocol is. “May I have three Big Macs, three French fries, and three Cokes?”

  “So you want three Big Mac combos?” the mechanical voice says.

  “Okay.”

  “Anything else?”

  “What do you have?”

  There’s a long pause. “Everything.”

  “I’ll have a strawberry cheesecake, too.”

  “We don’t have strawberry cheesecake.”

  “You said you had everything.”

  “You can have a McCafé Strawberry Shake or a Strawberry Sundae.”

  It occurs to me that strawberries are low in calories. “Do you have anything with caramel in it?”

  “You can have a Hot Caramel Sundae.”

  “I’ll have three of those, too.”

  “Anything else?”

  The kid will ask me this question until I say no. “No, thank you.”

  When I walk in to Aunt Ollie’s with my McDonald’s bags, she and Gramps give me a look.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “Dr. McDermott says I have to gain fifteen pounds. This is medicine.”

  The three of us chow down. Why do cows have to be so darn tasty?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It’s now been two and a half weeks since we started filming, and the mansion still gives me the willies. I much prefer the guest house, where there is some semblance of coziness.

  Today we interview the ladies who weren’t picked for tonight’s date, a particularly nice one for Rebecca, who is bubbly and wide-eyed. Austin is taking her to the Toronto Symphony and then dancing afterwards. Austin tells me he’s afraid he’ll fall asleep at the theatre. He arrives at the door to pick up his date wearing a tux. The harem collectively sighs at the sight of him. Rebecca preens a little before she blows them a kiss goodbye. The ladies wave their hands and shout that they hope they have a great time, but the minute the couple leaves, the bleating begins.

  Trying to keep these women focussed enough to create a narrative we can weave into an actual segment is getting harder as the days go by. All of them either love or hate each other, and half the time I feel like I’m still in the cafeteria at middle school.

  We break up into teams lead by Amanda, Trey, and me. We take them into different corners of the mansion and spend all day gathering the interviews this show is built on. We need lots of this type of footage, so we can pick and choose which bits will make it into the final product. We even have Jeremy as a rogue cameraman roaming around filming the girl’s faces for reactions that we might need for any situation later on. We store them up and use them in the editing room. That’s how I know Sandy W. is never without gum in her mouth and Sarah F. yawns a lot. I’ve also noticed Becca’s mouth is exceedingly big. Hardly surprising.

  I’ve got Mysti, Jocelyn, Lizette, Sydney, and Tracy in my group. We’re in a sunroom off the kitchen, and I made sure to have Brian with me. Sometimes the only way I can get through the day is to roll my eyes at him, which makes him giggle. A big guy who giggles makes me feel better.

  I’m hoping for fireworks, since Jocelyn and Lizette are fierce rivals, but Jocelyn never puts a foot wrong so she may keep quiet. Mysti is plain crazy, Sydney is Marilyn Monroe, and Tracy is so sweet she makes my teeth ache.

  The five of them are already chattering like squirrels. I try to get their attention, but it isn’t working. Since I can’t whistle like Amanda, I bang my pen against a water glass. The sound is pitiful, but Sydney realizes what’s up and tells the others to hush.

  “Firstly, I’d like to know if this experience is what you thought it would be. We’ll start with you, Sydney.”

  “It’s fun, but it’s really hard to watch Austin go out with other women.”

  “But you knew that he would.”

  She bounces in her seat and claps her hands. “I know, but I thought he’d take one look at me and the game would be over!”

  When the laughter dies down I point to Jocelyn.

  “It’s been amazing. Austin is wonderful and so are my new friends. I love this experience.”

  “It’s all good, then?”

  “Certainly. Every new experience teaches us about ourselves.”

  Jocelyn could be a Miss Canada contestant.

  “What about you, Lizette?”

  Lizette is by an open window so she can smoke. She inhales on her slender cigar and blows smoke at the ceiling. “I’m not here to make friends. This is about Austin and me. All the rest is nonsense that needs to be ignored. The woman who wins will be the strongest mentally, and fortunately I require extreme focus on the racetrack. It’s the same with my men.”

  Instantly the other four women shrink a little, and Lizette gives them a lazy smile. This girl is formidable.

  “What about you, Tracy?”

  “How am I supposed to top that?”

  Again, pretend laughter fills the air.

  “Whether I’m the winner or not, I’ve had such a great time with these beautiful women. That in itself has been rewarding.”

  “So no one thinks this experience has been difficult?”

  Mysti makes a face. “Please. They’re all liars, trying to make themselves look good on camera
, like butter wouldn’t melt. It’s a different story when we’re not being filmed. I’ve never heard such bitching and backstabbing in my life.”

  “That’s because you’re the bitch doing most of it,” Lizette says.

  Tracy jumps in. “You can’t talk to Mysti that way.”

  “Lizette thinks she’s the favourite. That’s not what Austin told me.”

  This is getting bad…or good, as the case may be. I don’t know anymore.

  Lizette stubs out her cigar. “It’s women like Mysti who give the rest of us a bad name.”

  “Shut up, you witch!” Mysti jumps up and gets in Lizette’s face. “Just because you drive a car around a track doesn’t mean you’re better than the rest of us.”

  “With you as the competition, I think it does.” Lizette gets up and walks out of the sunroom.

  Tracy wrings her hands. “Why can’t we all just get along?”

  Today we’re off to Muskoka, beautiful cottage country only a few hours from Toronto. Kate P. and Kate M., Jennifer P., Sandy W., Mysti, Becky, and Erin are going with us for a day of swimming and sailing at a fancy resort surrounded by beautiful lakes. Austin will then pick one girl to have dinner with on a millionaire’s yacht in the harbour. We’ve arranged for fireworks at the end of the

  evening.

  I’m at the back of the bus trying to meditate, but it’s not going well. My eyes are closed and that’s about as far as I get. It’s easier to look out the window at the emerald trees, pink granite, and sapphire lakes. My cellphone alarm goes off every hour so I remember to eat, which means I can’t relax. I had some cheese earlier. Right now I’ll have a box of Smarties, and next a banana.

  Austin is at the front of the bus with the girls. Amanda has her earphones on and is singing along, too loud and completely out of tune. Brian is snoring with his mouth open, while Trey and Jerry are playing Parcheesi on their laps.

  Austin appears when I’m halfway through my Smarties. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Not at all.”

  He sits and watches me put one Smartie at a time in my mouth. “Don’t you want to pour the box in all at once?”

  “No.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Fire away.”

  Austin looks tired and a little dishevelled. He has a habit of running his fingers through his hair. It’s like nervous tic. “This is a lot harder than I thought.”

  “No kidding.”

  “I don’t like hurting people.”

  I hand him two red Smarties. “There. That will cheer you up.”

  He pops them in his mouth. “This started when my sister Julia accused me of being a perfect specimen of conformity. Someone who does everything right, gets an education, gets a job, pays taxes, and then retires and dies without ever being spontaneous.”

  “She’s the rebel musician who’s cool.”

  “So cool she lives off Mom.”

  I give him more Smarties.

  “When I found out that I’d be paid for this gig, it seemed like a no-brainer. Trouble is, in my mind I glossed over what I’d have to do to get it.”

  “You’re picking a nice girl to fall in love with.”

  “And making nineteen others miserable.”

  “I hate to burst your bubble, Austin, but these girls will recover. You’re not Ryan Gosling, after all.”

  He pushes my shoulder with his own. “How do you manage it?”

  “What?”

  “You look like Ariel, but underneath you’re Ursula, the Sea Witch.”

  “Who are they?”

  “You’re kidding me. No, never mind—you don’t get out much.”

  The day is the best yet. Everyone has a relaxing time at the beach. It’s perfect for what we need, all our gals in bikinis and rolling around in the water and the hot sand. Amanda and I are the lifeguards, while Brian and his gang follow the ladies. In the centre of the activity is Austin, doing his best to drown the girls with great scoops of water as they scream at the top of their lungs.

  “I’m glad I have sons,” Amanda says.

  “Why’s that? Want some sunscreen?” I pass her my bottle.

  “This is SPF 60! No wonder you look like Snow White.”

  “I look like Ariel, if you don’t mind. Why are you glad you have sons?”

  “No matter what their age, females are screamers on the beach. It’s like a drill going through your brain.”

  My alarm goes off. “I forgot my food.”

  Amanda sits up in her chair. “Again? You’ll have to put me in charge. I always have food—except for right now, sorry.”

  I spy Brian about to open a bag of chips. “I’ll give you five bucks for those chips.”

  “Get your own.”

  “My doctor says I have to gain fifteen pounds.”

  “My doctor says I have to lose fifteen pounds, but I’m still not giving them to you.”

  “You’re a jerk.”

  “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Please?”

  He tosses the bag over. “Take them. I hope you get fat.”

  “I hope so too.” I rip the bag open and offer him some. He takes a huge handful and grins. “Where’s my five bucks?”

  Once the beach segment is over, we set up on the boat we’ll be sailing in this afternoon. It’s impressive, with a gorgeous deck of mahogany that will look great on camera, large enough to fit the girls, Austin, the captain, his crew, and two cameramen. I’m grateful I’m on the smaller sailboat that will accompany the bigger vessel, so we can get exciting shots from the water.

  It’s a glorious late July day in Ontario. The clouds in the pale blue sky look as if someone swept them along with a broom. There are speedboats, jet skis, and sailboats in the water, their canvasses puffed out by the wind, with cottages dotted in and around the edge of the lake, beautifully landscaped among the fir and pine trees, some larger than a house in the city. This is where the rich have their hideaways.

  I’ve never been in a sailboat and I’m leery of my weak ankle, but Amanda tells me I’ll be fine, so I believe her.

  After an hour I have concluded that this sailing business is heavenly. We race through the swells beside the large boat, shouting and waving back and forth. Gary gets some great distance shots of Austin at the wheel, steering the boat with confidence. He certainly looks like a natural, with his sweater draped around his neck and shirt collar up, wind ruffling his hair.

  The wind starts to die down, which means we’re going at a more leisurely speed. This is even nicer; you don’t have to hold on so tightly.

  Amanda’s hair and my own look like rat’s nests, and Gary insists on pointing the camera at us.

  “Knock it off!”

  “I can’t. I’m taking it back to show the others what our esteemed leaders look like.”

  Stupidly, I stand up to go over and grab the camera from him. The skipper starts to come around and yells “Duck!”

  I put my hand to my forehead to block out the sun so I can see the duck. “Where?”

  The boom thumps me and I’m in the water before I’ve even registered flying through the air. The water hits me like a wall as I flail about, trying to get to the surface. All I can think of are the life jackets back on the boat. How incredibly idiotic that I didn’t insist on wearing one. If I drown, someone else will see my black-walled bedroom with fraying sheets. How humiliating.

  My head pops up, and I see the sailboats and people panicking, which makes me panic.

  “Hel...p.” I’m coughing on the water, but there’s someone swimming through the waves towards me. I wish you’d hurry up and get here!

  It’s Austin. I’ve never been so glad to see him.

  He grabs me around the waist and shouts in my ear, “You’re going to be all right. Stop fighting. I’ve got you.”

/>   Now there are life rings around us, and people hanging over the side reaching out to get a hold of my arms. Austin pushes me up out of the water, and I’m hauled into the larger yacht like a tuna, courtesy of Brian. Amanda is yelling from the other boat. People wrap me up in a variety of things, everyone asking me if I’m all right.

  Of course I’m all right. I’m alive, but covered in goosebumps, probably from fright.

  Brian hauls Austin aboard too.

  Mysti runs over and grabs him, crying. “I’m so glad you’re safe! You could’ve drowned!”

  He pushes her aside and comes over to me. “That was a stupid thing to do.”

  “You’re going to yell at me?”

  “You’ve got a weak ankle and you’re standing on the edge of the boat that’s moving. And not wearing a life jacket, I might add.”

  “You weren’t wearing one.”

  “You have to be more careful.”

  “Thank you for saving my life. Now stop lecturing me!”

  “How dare you yell at Austin? He rescued you.”

  “Keep out of this, Mysti,” Austin shouts.

  That’s when the violent shivering starts. Fade to black.

  When I open my eyes Amanda is sitting beside me as I lie on a gurney in a cubical surrounded by white sheets. “Please don’t tell me I’m in a hospital.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a fool.”

  “We’re waiting for the doctor to release you. Then we can head home. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

  I sit up and swing my legs over the side. “I’m sore.”

  “You could’ve been dead. Austin was in that water almost as fast as you were.”

  “He got mad at me. Yelled in front of everyone like I was a kid.”

  “He got a fright.”

  “Who did he pick for dinner?”

  “Kate One. Then he gave Mysti the boot. She didn’t go quietly.”

  The doctor arrives and lets me go after taking my pulse and blood pressure. “Keep warm and eat something.”